Graduation
by Catwho
Summary: The end of every chapter is the beginning of another. SekiRaku
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: this is pure Yoko/Rakushun - if you don't like the pairing, you probably won't like the story.**

**This is probably AU but since we're never gonna get the translations of the later books in English, oh well.**

* * *

"Class is dismissed," Tokutou said, gathering his papers from the lectern and nodding to the seniors. "If you want to discuss signatures, then please meet me in the office."

It was three days before the end of the year and graduation at the University of Kei. Most of the students had joined in the last few years, after the new Empress ascended to the throne. She was indulgent towards the university, and command them to open the doors to all promising scholars, regardless of age, nationality, and most importantly, wealth.

The school had introduced the concept of "merit scholarships" at her recommendation – the nation itself would pay for their schooling, provided they kept up their grades. Additionally, students who tested in at the highest levels of the university could work part-time in exchange for money to support their families or to save up for after graduation. It worked out well for all parties involved – the quality of students at the university improved, and the school grounds were well-kept, the food delicious, and the entire place was squeaky clean from top to bottom.

And then there were the _hanjou._

There were at least four of them in the school now. The eldest was Rakushun, a student now in his fifth year at the University of Kei, after spending a year in the University of En. He was gifted, and rumor had it that he was here at the personal request of the Empress herself, although he never mentioned it. He did, however, have a rare silver message bird that was worth as much as all four years of tuition at the school. And he was not a scholarship student – someone was paying the full price of his tuition. No one knew who except for Rakushun himself, and he would not discuss it.

The other candidates for graduation in his class joined Rakushun as they walked with Tokutou toward his office. One by one they went in, and one by one they came out. You could tell by the look on each of their faces what the outcome of Tokutou's judgment was.

In order to graduate, each student needed the approval of each faculty member at the school. Some classes were easy to get – literacy, law, archery – whereas some were far more difficult.

Tokutou taught government philosophy. It was considered one of the harder classes, since it required a little original research and a lot of critical thinking. The graduates of the school were all destined to work for the country's massive government infrastructure – the merchant class in Kei was still small, and one did not need an expensive education to till the fields or sell wares. The university graduates would become the country's doctors, engineers, and military strategists.

The new empress had already had a strong influence – she favored progress and modernization. Her largesse toward the school had spurred research and innovation into improved agriculture. She had also invited architects and designers from other countries to teach the students in the best that all of the Twelve Kingdoms had learned.

Rakushun was the last to enter Tokutou's office. He handed the processor his card. It was nearly full of signatures – Rakushun had paced himself to get as far as five signatures every year. He had his three needed to stay in school this year, but without Tokutou's signature, he could not graduate.

"Saving the best for last, eh?" the old man said with a faint wisp of a grin.

Rakushun stared at him with his black, guileless eyes. The young man was quite attractive in his human form but preferred his beast form, saying he was more comfortable that way. The new Empress was sympathetic to _hanjou_, and like En she wanted Kei to be a land where people walked around freely in whatever form they chose. One of her generals was said to be half bear. There were also the rumors surrounding Rakushun himself, but the young man was careful never to speak directly of her in anything but the most abstract terms.

The old professor gave him a final nod, then took his card and signed it.

"Thank you, sir," Rakushun said simply.

"Why did you wait so long to ask me?" Rakushun had been attending his class for nearly three years.

"Because you were the one who had the most I could learn." Rakushun blinked, his whiskers twitching. "In fact, there is much more I could learn from you. If I could, I would stay here another few years, just to make sure I learned everything I possibly could."

Tokutou smiled then. "Even if you stayed here a hundred years, you could not learn everything. And then you would be an old man." He patted Rakushun's card, filled with proof that his professors all recommended him to the government. "Graduate now. Take the placement exam. Earn your contract of immortality. Then you can enjoy a long lifetime of study, and stay young forever."

The _hanjou_ bowed very low. "Thank you, sir," he said again. Then he took his card, and left.

Only after he closed the door did he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

* * *

The graduation ceremony was held a few days later. There were fifty students in all who had the approval of the professors. Many of them were approaching middle age already. Rakushun were his human form – even if they had made the graduation robes in his rat size, they would have been hot and uncomfortable. The robes were the classic design of the Kei Imperial scholars – black with long sleeves, and a skull cap with decorations related to each major – philosophy, literature, agriculture.

The students were lined up expectantly, in two rows, preparing to enter the school's main hall, when a great murmuring started from behind the lobby area. Suddenly, everyone was dropping face down on the ground, kneeling before the important person who had entered unexpectedly.

"The Empress!" someone behind Rakushun hissed. Rakushun panicked for a second before reluctantly joining them in the kow-tow. Every single person around them was face down on the ground. Yoko hated it when they knelt on the ground; she had asked that people instead bow in mutual respect, so she could see their faces.

But he had kept his relationship with her secret, and this was one of the formal occasions where the kneeling might still be expected. So he joined them on the ground, but kept his head lifted slightly to watch the cluster be escorted inside.

"Honored graduates," the herald said nervously, "Her Royal Majesty, the Empress of Kei, has graced us with her divine presence. We are greatly honored to have her observe our ceremony today."

They began to walk down the hallway, soft slippers muffled further by long silken robes.

Her entourage was small, but they'd wisely brought their own chairs, carried by servants who walked behind them. Three women – that would be Yoko, Suzu, and Shokkei. He glanced up, and saw them approaching from the side. Rather than forcing the university to rearrange their elaborate stage, they set up Yoko's portable throne dais off to the left of the stage. She was there to witness, not to participate.

As they passed, he caught Shokkei's eye. She winked at him, and titled her head slightly toward Yoko. Yoko herself was wearing a carefully blank face – she had once called it her "game face" that she put on when she was trying to be as emotionless as possible. That is, whenever she was in "empress mode." But Shokkei was not bound in such a way, and by her gestures, he knew that Yoko had been informed by someone that he was graduating and insisted on coming to see.

The thought made him happy. A more emotional person might have called it giddy or gleeful, but Rakushun was tempered in his emotions and they never swung to anything that extreme. However, he knew he showed his own emotions too readily in human form, so he did his best to hide his enthusiasm.

Although their lives had taken wildly divergent paths, he still thought of her as the beautiful, scrawny, half-dead girl he'd found in a puddle and nursed back to health. Little did he know at the time that the _kakyouku_ was the chosen, if lost, Empress of Kei. He had fallen in love with her wild spirit and determination to survive. He'd nearly had his heart broken when he found out her real station in life, although he had been very happy for her as well. But she had told him nothing had changed between them. The only distance between them would always be physical.

"Graduates, please rise and take your positions."

In exchange for finding the lost Empress, the Emperor pf En had given him the opportunity to study at the university. Then after Yoko had gotten the situation in Kei under control a bit, she had personally asked the Universities of Kei and En to let him transfer, so they could be closer to each other. All the traveling had been detracting from his studies, she had said, but he wanted to believe she really just wanted him in the same city with her, even if they did not talk that much more.

They marched forward, and the ceremony continued as planned with one slight alteration. Instead of bowing before the magistrate of the university after being presented with their scrolls, they found themselves bowing before the empress as well. She was resplendent, as always. She and Keiki, her kirin, wore matching severe expressions, but when it was Rakushun's turn, her expression softened. She was trying very hard not to smile.

"Congratulations," she mouthed to him, before he moved on to let the next student see her.

* * *

Afterward, the new graduates gathered at their favorite pub, drinking and rejoicing in their achievements, all still in their robes and hats. Several pretty girls still in school themselves had joined them – if a lucky girl managed to marry a magistrate, she could attain immortality without necessarily having to pass the exam herself.

Rakushun was part of a small group of friends, mostly older men, drinking quietly in the corner while the younger ones danced and partied.

"Good job, young man," one of the oldest of their group said. "I was wondering if you were going to beat me in getting out of here, actually." He chuckled. "My wife didn't believe I'd ever make it."

"I'm surprised you took so long as well," another said. "What class held you up?"

"Archery."

Rakushun gave an involuntarily shudder as all the older men groaned together. "I took it for all four years as well," he admitted. He flexed his human hands around his drink, remembering the humiliation of that first year of archery in En. The instructors there had been merciless, and since he was still unused to his human form, he had been the most clumsy student they could recall. "When I transferred to Kei after my first year of archery, I pretended I had never taken it at all in En – and they certainly believed I was a rank beginner."

The men around him laughed.

He had been terrible that first year, and merely bad the second year. He'd somehow improved – despite himself. So he'd pushed himself, and practiced and practiced. By the end of the third year, he'd started to approach good – and he'd been very, very good by the time his instructor was satisfied last month. He was no warrior, but he had good hearing and an animal's instincts and could keep his aim true even with his eyes closed or his head turned away, an unusual skill that had impressed even the battle hardened instructor at the University of Kei.

He had just lifted his glass to take another sip when he heard, "Oy, Rakushun! You have some visitors!"

There, standing at the door, disguised in plain clothes, were Yoko, Shokkei, and Suzu. Kantai was there as well, probably because letting the three most precious flowers of the palace enter a pub without some kind of bodyguard was a very bad idea. Rakushun drew in his breath.

"Pretty girls? Let them in!"

Yoko's outfit was not the disguise of "Yoshi" that she had worn during the early days when she wanted to travel incognito, but a much more feminine look. Most of the kingdom now knew of their empress in disguise, and young girls could buy dolls of "Yoshi" that came with empress clothes as well as her peasant clothes.

Instead, Yoko wore a strange outfit he'd seen her in only once before – she had called it a _yukata_ and had had the palace tailors whip it up as a surprise for Suzu during the summer festival a few years ago. The robes were colorful, with wide bands of silk worn high on the waist. Both Suzu and Shoukkei sported them as well, although for once it was Suzu who wore it better with her slender figure.

Yoko had also dyed her hair – her brilliant red locks were by far her most distinguishing feature, so with them dulled to a more common brown, she looked like a well-to-do subject rather than the ruler of the country.

The disguised inner court of the empress ran inside, in a giggling flurry of sleeves and flowing hair.

He set his drink down and stood up, mesmerized.

"Rakushun!" Yoko called joyously when she spotted him, and ran across the crowded room to him. She stopped just short of flinging herself around him, although he could tell that she wanted to. She knew that it embarrassed him.

"What are you doing here? It's not safe," he warned quietly. Some of his classmates could probably devour beautiful girls whole.

"Sure it is," Yoko said with a smile. "Kantai is with us. He'd never let anything happen to us… especially not Shokkei."

He looked back toward the door at the former princess of Hou, who was laughing merrily with the leader of Yoko's security forces. Suzu, the plainest of the three but also the most exotic with her _hourai_ features, was talking much more quietly with the underclassmen who had snatched her immediately. Technically Suzu was the eldest of them, topping out at over a century. But while her mind and body were immortal, she had only recently blossomed into maturity. Shokkei was almost fifty now although she didn't look a day over twenty. She had refused to sign another immortality contract, preferring to let herself grow older in the way she had been denied as a child. Yoko herself was nearing twenty-two. She, like Suzu, would wear the look of a sixteen year old forever.

She slipped onto the bar stool that Rakushun had vacated.

"I wanted to tell you congratulations in person." She flashed a gold coin at the bartender, and called out, "A round for everyone on me!"

The room erupted into cheers. The elderly man who had been sitting beside Rakushun took the first pour from the bartender, and left his stool, motioning for Rakushun to replace him since the wealthy young woman was his friend.

He slipped onto the chair, and waited until the bartender had served Yoko before grabbing the mug he'd been working on before.

She took a sip of the beer, wrinkled her nose, and continued. "I didn't want a stuffy, formal audience, and it's so hard to sneak you into the palace. Koushou said that you guys would probably have a party here – or so Sekki told him." She gestured to the youngest person there, Sekki, who was listening to Suzu's conversation in rapt attention. The young man had been given the first scholarship to the university, as repayment for his elder brother's work during the early tumultuous days of Yoko's reign. "Kantai agreed to let us come if he could escort us." Yoko's eyes were shining in pride and happiness. "Keiki is going to kill me if he finds out, but I was getting tired of being cooped up. All he knows is that I went out with my 'ladies in waiting' for the evening." She rolled her eyes at the term – to her, Suzu and Shokkei were merely good friends.

The rowdy students around them would no doubt quake in fear if they knew their empress stood among them, but none of them had any suspicions. A few of them did keep throwing jealous looks at Rakushun, the _hanjou_ with the pretty brunette talking to him.

"I also wanted to give you a gift," Yoko continued, and reached into a pouch hanging from her belt. handed him a velvet sack. "I'm sure you will earn a wonderful position in the government with your upcoming exam, so you will need this soon."

Overwhelmed, Rakushun opened the package to reveal a beautiful seal stamp with the characters for his name on it. At first glance it appeared rather plain, made only of polished black wood and ivory, but the craftsmanship was exquisite and on closer inspection there was a second layer of inlaid jet making a decorative pattern on the outside. From a distance it was utilitarian, but it was costly and had taken a skilled artisan many months. She had indulged him, while still respecting his modest tastes.

"The artisan was in En," she explained. "He assumed that this 'Rakushun' must be a very high ranking official." Yoko grinned and pressed the seal into his hands. "Maybe someday soon."

"It's perfect," he said, grateful that he had prevented his voice from cracking.

"I thought it would suit you. No nonsense on the first glance, but with hidden depths." She blushed a little as she said that.

"Thank you."

Rakushun suddenly regretted the fact that he was not in his rat form. In this human form, he had uncomfortable urges when it came to Yoko. Such as now, when he really just wanted to lean forward and kiss her. His rat form had no such instincts – or rather, they were dulled and suppressed. He _felt_ things more keenly as a human. He still felt all the same emotions he did as a rat, but as a human they were so much stronger.

She was the empress, he reminded himself. She was also his best friend in the world. For the moment, he was nothing but a jobless graduate until he tested into a position. He certainly wasn't _worthy_ of kissing her.

She would not see it that way, however. She never did.

Rakushun carefully put his new name seal into the velvet bag and put it into his pocket.

He made his decision, and took two steps toward her so that he was close enough to touch her.

"Rakushun…?" she asked breathily. "What are you-"

He embraced her warmly, and said in her ear, "I'm closing the distance between us."

They were both blushing fiercely now. This was uncharted territory. Yoko had never been in love before, she had told him, and he had never had any friends at all, let alone someone of the girl variety.

"Aren't you the one that is always telling me to have more modesty?" she murmured against his shoulder.

He could feel her heartbeat pounding wildly. But she was right. This was not the place for anything beyond this fierce hug.

"Ahem," Kantai said, not too far away. Shokkei was hanging off his arm, grinning widely at her two friends.

Reluctantly, they broke apart, both still crimson. Kantai just shook his head at them.

For the rest of the party, they held hands, but did not embrace again. Before long, under Yoko's generous purse (her allowance money, she'd explained), everyone was tipsy or flat out drunk and having a merry time of it.

The alcohol lowered both their inhibitions and their defenses. They talked as they had not since those early days, when he was an outcast of Kou and she was a foreigner on the run.

"I'm going to take the exam in one month," Rakushun told her. "I have a pretty good feeling about it, but I don't want any favoritism or anything." He shook his head. "I want to earn my position in the government."

Yoko nodded. "In Japan, we call our introductory level government workers 'interns' – because you are still learning, but it is internal to the government. I understand that it is much the same here. It would take something extraordinary for someone, even you, to enter at a higher level." She smiled. "I swear on my throne I haven't told anyone in the palace about you."

He sighed in relief. As always, she understood him completely. "The kingdom of Kei has already done so much for me. The next few steps are ones I must take on my own."

"No pressure, but I _will_ be keeping an eye on those exam results."

"Yoko," Kantai called from across the room. "We're going to have to head back now."

She squeezed his hand. "Good luck," she whispered. Then, not caring who was watching, she kissed him quickly on the cheek. A few of his classmates saw that and cheered, as the three pretty girls were escorted away by their bodyguard, leaving the new graduates alone.

Later that night, Rakushun was having uncharacteristic impractical thoughts at odds with his practical nature. Thoughts like, "I will never wash this cheek again." The analytical part of his mind told him that it was impossible to leave half a face unwashed, and even if he did so, it would result in an outbreak of acne. He wanted to sleep with his new seal under his pillow, but he was aware that it would be uncomfortable and could even damage the delicate ebony and jet woodwork.

He had loved Yoko from the moment he had laid eyes on her, and ever since. But now, for the first time, he was experiencing the effects of being _in love_, which were much different. The emotion was hotter and wilder and almost painful.

They were muted when he was in his rat form, but it was really his human form that resonated and sang when she was near him.

He was no longer sure which form he preferred.

* * *

**The good news is that the whole first half of the story is written! The bad news is that it was written terribly the first go round and needs major revision. I'll do my best to get the next chapter out before February.**

**Reviews are author food. Nom nom nom.**


	2. Chapter 2

Rakushun was not nervous the day of the test. He was prepared. He knew every law, every philosopher, every writing character, every legend, the name of all the emperors and important officials for nearly two thousand years of the Kingdom of Kei's existence. He knew all the dates and battles and things that went into the history of Kei and its neighbors. He also knew a great deal about En, Hou, and the Tentei of Mount Hyo, thanks to his unusual connections.

He could ride a mount passably, thanks to the practice he'd had traveling between kingdoms over the years. He had forced himself to do it in his human form after one of his professors commented that mastery in one form did not excuse deficiency in the other – that since he was gifted with both forms, he should learn to apply both properly.

He briefly held the name seal she had given him in his hands for good luck, then fed the messenger bird they shared a piece of silver. The enchanted mechanical bird nibbled on the precious metal, then obediently listened to his voice.

"Dearest Yoko… I am off to take the government exam now. Wish me luck, although luck is not a factor in this exam. If I pass, I will do my best to serve you." He did not know what he would do if he failed. Try again next year?

"But do not worry about me too much. Thanks to you, and every one that has helped me over these last six years, I am as prepared for this this exam as I can be. Whether I pass or not, I will do my best and give it my all. Be well, Yoko."

He sent the bird on its way. It flew off toward the palace in the heavens, where Yoko and the court she'd never asked for waited.

* * *

The government exams were held at the university. They were free of charge to the public, and while any university students could opt to sit the exams early, most of them disabused themselves of that idea in their first year in school. The exams were not to be taken lightly.

The test itself was comprised of three parts. A multiple choice section took up four hours on the first day, followed by afternoon physical testing.

The second day was a long composition, which was followed by an oral examination and a defense of the compositions chosen to be most worthy after they had been read by the proctors.

Any one of the three areas could disqualify a candidate. There were forty candidates for only ten slots for the final oral exam.

Rakushun felt good about his multiple choice section. There were a few that he had had to think about, as the questions were deliberately worded to be tricky. But there were none that he had been completely lost on. He had been the first person to turn in his completed test; two people who had not graduated with him from the university had earlier turned in half-finished tests and left, dejected.

For the physical trials, he had managed to not fall off his horse and to hit quite close to the target with his arrow while mounted, although it was not quite a bull's eye. It was still a remarkable improvement over where he had started from before, tripping over his own two feet and tangling the arrow in his bow. And it was enough for a pass, which was all he needed.

Many others did not make it to the end of the second day.

Immortality was a strong lure. It was designed to attract the best and brightest into government service. But it was not a gift bestowed freely. Yoko had been given it unexpectedly, but her strong heart and will showed how much she deserved it. Rakushun had never thought about it for himself until he had met Yoko. Every day he aged, while she would remain a perfect sixteen years old until the day she died – which could be hundreds of years from now.

However, gaining immortality for himself was not his motivation for taking the exam. Nor was being with Yoko forever, although that had weighed heavily in his mind for some time. No. He was a true scholar, and he loved learning for the sake of learning. He loved testing as the challenge to himself for what he had learned. And he knew that he was good at both learning _and_ testing.

The written exam was given as the same topic to everyone, in a sealed envelope, to be taken home and completed and turned in by sunset. Unlike the multiple choice section, they could use any citations and research they needed to support their argument. The proctors would then pull an all-nighter and narrow the compositions down to the ten best, who would spend the third day defending the composition in public. If they defended successfully, they would be assigned to the ministry for a trial period. However, if they failed the oral defense, that position would go unfilled.

"How did you do?" his elder classmate said as they shuffled off toward their dorms. Once the exam was over, pass or fail, they would have to leave the university grounds. Those who passed would be able to move to the palace. Those who failed… had to find someplace else.

Of the forty initial examinees, thirty were left to collect envelopes with topics. Eight more had failed their multiple choice or physical exams in addition to the two who had left the day before.

"I think I did well," Rakushun said, his whiskers twitching. He had changed back to a rat as soon as he had the opportunity. Holding his human form for so long during the physical exam had stressed him, and he wanted to ensure that he was at his best for the next day.

"Same here," the older man said, and patted him on the back. Rakushun had expressed in no uncertain terms that head pats were an intimate gesture reserved for a select few people, and most of his class mates respected his person. "There were a few that tripped me up, but obviously we got the majority of them right. I think I'll be fine tomorrow. Want to go grab some lunch before we begin?"

"I think that's an excellent idea," Rakushun agreed, and his stomach rumbled in agreement as well. "But we had better be fast."

The essay could be on any topic. They only had a few hours to compose and return their essays.

* * *

With trembling hands, Rakushun went to his dorm and opened the envelope.

"Her Magnificence the Empress Sekishi is a _taika_, a citizen of our Kingdom of Kei who had once been lost Over There, then returned to us by the Mandate of Heaven and our Lord Keiki's benevolence. So too are the rulers of our sister kingdom En, Enki and the Emperor of En Shoryu, and the lost and found kirin of the Kingdom of Tai, Taiki. Trace the influence and significance of other _taika_ and their influence in our world."

Rakushun stared at the paper, astonished.

He could not believe his luck. Taisikin had once called him the kingdom's only expert on _taika._ It was true that the subject fascinated him, not just because of Yoko, but because the _taika_ and _kaikyaku _were considered outsiders, much like the _hanjou_ were. He had pored over all the most famous once in history, not just in Kei and En, but all over the Twelve Kingdoms.

They could not have picked a better subject for him if they had tried.

Could Yoko have…?

No, she did not interfere at the lower levels of the kingdom, preferring to let her ministers maintain autonomy. She did have a habit of visiting in plainclothes to see how she was treated, something she had called the "secret shopper technique of quality improvement." Any minister or lower government official who was caught violating the spirit or the letter of the law was demoted or appropriately punished. Her technique was unorthodox, but considering she'd personally stopped a civil war using it, the Tentei seemed to approve.

He leaned forward on his desk, his claws curling under his chin as he stared at the paper. Well. He certainly knew the topic inside and out. It would all boil down to composing a tight, cohesive narrative.

He picked up his quill pen, took a deep breath, and began to write.

A mere four hours later he was done.

The composition was almost seven pages of tiny script characters in length, speaking of the five most influential _taika_ of the Kingdom of Kei over the last two thousand years. One of the earliest Keikis has been a _taika_. The other four had been a general, a Buddhist priest, an immortal government official who had ruled over his province of the kingdom for several centuries before committing suicide, and then of course Yoko herself. Each one had had a noticeable impact on the kingdom. Yoko, they had been pleased to learn, was raised as a Buddhist and she strongly supported it because it is a religion of peace.

(Rakushun himself was fairly irreligious – certainly he had seen gods and mystical beings with his own two eyes by now, but the fuzzy present existed on a different plane to him than the written past. Until he had met Yoko and thus Keiki, he'd considered the goings about of gods and kirin to be things that did not involve him, and thus were not important.)

Shortly after he finished his essay, Rakushun returned to the exam building and turned it in to a pretty young bureaucrat, who herself had passed the exam early enough in her life to lock in her beauty before it faded. She could be a hundred years old or more, but there was a quality to her smile that indicated to Rakushun she was still relatively young after all.

"If your composition is selected as one of the finalists, you will be listed on a sheet at this door tomorrow. Your assigned number is five."

She handed him a scrap of cloth with the Arabic numeral five on it. Rakushun smiled. The Arabic numerals had been introduced to Kei by the minor government official; it was that outstanding introduction to math and science that had earned him his contract of immortality. That was a section in his essay, and it was clearly something that they had been looking for. And if someone had failed to include it in their essay, they would doubtless automatically fail.

Rakushun nodded to the woman and padded away, back toward his dorm, feeling fairly confident in himself for once. But he would check and double check his reference sources tonight, to be prepared in case he was called to defend tomorrow.

* * *

The ten numbers listed on the board were 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 23, 24, 25, and 29. Rakushun's whiskers twitched as his fertile mind detected the pattern in the first six numbers. Coincident, surely. Yoko was a master of the Arabic numerals; she could do things with the numbers that had astonished the mathematics tutor who had briefly been assigned to her during the first year of her reign. After a few lessons, the man had thrown his hands up and concluded she should be tutoring him, not the other way around, and her tutors had switched her to history and calligraphy full time instead.

Yoko would have been able to tell him the name of the pattern he had seen.

"Congrats," his friend whispered. He was number two.

"Congratulations to you as well. And good luck on your defense."

The selected candidates were called out one by one. Three was another older classmate; they both emerged looking happy and relieved. They had passed.

But at his turn, the pretty young bureaucrat had come out and asked him if he minded waiting until the end. Rakushun was so started that he began to chew on his lip. Was there something wrong with his essay?

He watched, one by one, as the remaining test takers went in. Number eight came out crying.

"I failed my composition," he said quietly to Rakushun, who was standing off to one side. "They said mastery of the characters was incomplete, and that my fact finding had been thin." He took a deep, ragged breath. "They gave me one more chance with the defense, but I choked."

Rakushun clucked and patted the younger man sympathetically. The defense was critical – even if your essay contained mistakes, you could rectify them with clear answers.

13, 21, and 23 passed. 24 did not – she had forgotten a critical citation and been called out on it. Honesty was one of the most desired traits in a government official, and failure to credit others was a huge oversight. She would be allowed to try again next year, as would number eight.

After they'd all left – either to celebrate or drown their sorrows, they finally called him in.

"Master Rakushun?"

Miserable and nervous, all his confidence gone, Rakushun followed. He was especially unhappy about being in his human form. He was sure they could see how nervous he was.

Five older bureaucrats sat around one end of a long table. The other end had a single empty chair. The young girl motioned for him to sit there.

After a moment of quiet, one of the bleary eyed men spoke.

"Master Rakushun, we asked you to come in here last for a specific reason, but we must first verify your composition. Are you prepared to defend your work?"

Rakushun nodded.

"Then each of us will ask you a question about your writing. Answer the question to the best of your abilities."

The questions were difficult, but not unfair. One wanted to clarify a point about the Buddhist priest. Another one asked for further evidence of scientific improvements from the Arabic numerals. All of them asked about his character choices on a few words. Rakushun answered each question carefully, thinking about what he wanted to say for a few moments and then speaking in an unhurried tone.

"No more questions," the first name, obviously the head of the committee, finally said after everyone had fallen silent. "You have passed the exam. Congratulations."

Rakushun inhaled slowly.

The man continued. "The reason we called you in last is because, as we suspected from your score on the multiple choice exam, you are no ordinary scholar. You are the first to pass the exam with a perfect score in nearly two hundred years." He smiled kindly. "The first since myself, in fact."

Rakushun blinked. "Even the physical…?"

The head of the committee nodded. "Well, those are all pass/fail, so passing counts as a perfect. The multiple choice and composition, on the other hand, are much more difficult to pass and a single wrong answer or wrong character will mar the perfect score. You have done well, Master Rakushun."

All six heads bowed toward him in a sign of respect.

Rakushun felt a surge of elation like nothing he'd felt since he'd first fallen in love with Yoko.

"We have arranged for you to have an audience with the Empress herself tomorrow at 4PM sharp. Then we will assign you to your office in the government. I know that Her Majesty has said that a _hanjou_ may appear before her in any form, but there are others still in the court who are more hidebound. So please appear as you are now, and please dress appropriately."

They all stood, and Rakushun did as well, giving them a stiff bow. He was still in shock, which was probably the only reason he wasn't grinning stupidly. As it was, the six scholars saw a serious young man with a serious expression on his face, and not much else since they were so exhausted. They were all going to go to sleep as soon as they could.

* * *

Rakushun was escorted out of the building, still floored. His father would have been so proud.

The first perfect score in two hundred years!

His mother, too, would be enormously proud, he realized. As he left the doorway, the young bureaucrat handed him a sheet of vellum. On it were his job instructions and some quick information.

He was now eligible for the contract of immortality (as he had known), and while his immediate family was not – he would require several promotions for that - they were allowed to join him on the palace grounds to live out the rest of their days in comfort.

The reality of that hit him – once he took the contract, _he would not die._ He could remain with Yoko forever….

Rakushun had already brought his mother from the deteriorating country of Kou to the newly reborn country of Kei. His mother had heckled him lightly about the fact that the current era had the same character as his name – he had not told her that was by design, because Yoko wanted this age to be an age of prosperity for him, and those like him.

He plodded along back to his dorm, slowly, as he continued reading. They would be allowed to move to the outermost ring of the palace grounds, to a small housing building they would share with three other newly appointed government workers. As he was promoted, he would be provided better housing options, but a two room apartment inside the palace walls was where he would start. Rakushun smiled to himself as he remembered Yoko complaining that she had thirty bedrooms for herself, and asking if some of those rooms could be used for refugees from Kou instead. Keiki had put his foot down.

Kou's latest kirin had yet to reach maturity; the egg had only hatched a few years ago, and she was still learning and growing on Mount Hyo. She was a lot bubblier than Kourin had been, or so Rakushun had heard from Enki, but also a lot more stubborn. That was probably for the best. Kourin had been painfully beautiful but weak willed; she had let her Emperor commit unspeakable atrocities without more than a token protest.

The situation in Kou had fallen so much that the newly formed UN Resource Group could not provide enough aid to everyone. Yoko and Keiki had opened the border shared with Kei to refugees, but Kei's own recovery was still fragile and their already strained resources could not handle much more.

Yoko's problems were now, in some small way, Rakushun's problems too. If he could ease her burden in any way at all, he would be content.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the reviews and the kind words!**

* * *

The new government officials were all sent to the royal tailor that evening, who found some used, older style ministerial robes that had been abandoned in favor of the new styles that had come into fashion. Good cloth was precious and even worn out clothes were rarely thrown away, but these had hardly been used at all.

"It's the Empress," the head tailor said, not disapprovingly as he measured Rakushun. "She has so many funny ideas about clothes, and when she picked up that _kaikyaku_ tailor and had him join us last year, she charged him with 'modernizing style.' So many of the ministers are switching to these tighter fitting things she calls a 'business suit.'" He said the foreign words in an accent not unlike how Yoko would have said it.

Rakushun had heard of the new style of clothing that had swept through the court from Yoko, but he'd yet to see the funny "suits" that she described. He'd known about the _kaikyaku _tailor. The poor man had probably been terrified and then directed to see Suzu, who was in charge of "placing" _kaikyaku_ in suitable industries. That would explain the lovely dresses that had they worn the night of his graduation, too.

Four or five of the lost foreigners came to the land of Kei a year from Japan. A few were now employed by Suzu in the palace, as she could understand their language and slowly teach them to speak the language used by the rest of this world. The rest which were unplaceable by Suzu had to be sent to the _kaikyaku_ school in En, to learn the language and the needed live skills to survive. Much sympathy had been given to the young man who had worked on something called "web sites" for a living – Yoko had said in her message to Rakushun about that one that the things he had worked on simply did not exist here, and probably never would. Rakushun had asked her – was a web site a place where someone cleaned out spider webs? Yoko had launched into a complicated explanation of machines which shared textual images across the entire planet by a form of magic she called _denki – _"lightning power," she had explained. Rakushun had hoped to get a more thorough understanding of that from her one day, but their time together had been precious and rare and he'd never found a good moment to ask.

The cook had been much easier to place, and the architect, as well as the tailor, it seemed.

The architect was slowly revamping some of the slummier parts of the city in the province of Ei with multistory "apartment" buildings. He'd also designed an aqueduct, leading to cold running water for everyone in the capital city. Yoko was a bit of a cleanliness freak, and demanded that everyone in the court bathe daily if possible. Running water and sewage lines, combined with the new housing, had done wonders for the province and had already greatly reduced disease and death from the refugees.

"You're all set," the tailor said, and held up Rakushun's new robes. "Fortunately, I didn't have to alter this one. Your first robes are a gift from the country as welcome, but any repairs or replacements will need to be done out of pocket. Wash with cold water only – hot water could shrink the fabric."

Rakushun nodded and took the robes, taking a moment to stare at them. In his hands was the culmination of a lifetime of hard work – and a few lucky breaks.

"Thank you," he said simply.

The presentation to Yoko, like all the ceremonies in the palace, was longer than it needed to be. Yoko's new tailor had been busy – almost half the court was wearing the business suit. Rakushun liked the look of them. They had only two or three layers with a single silk ornament hanging from the throat. The head was bared when indoors (Yoko's request) but a broad brimmed felt hat could be worn outdoors. An optional overcoat was available for cold weather. The shoes to be worn with it were black, shiny, and practical, with rounded toes and no ornamentation. The colors for men were somber – grays, browns, and blacks. Women's outfits could have a hint of color, such as a deep red or green, and were much more closely tailored to the hips. A few had abandoned the trousers favored by their male colleagues and gone for a scandalously short skirt and silk stockings.

Compared to the new fashionistas, the rest of the court looked hidebound and stuffy. Rakushun looked down in dismay at his robes, which had been perfectly serviceable for their previous owner a year ago but now were far too old fashioned to be any use to him. His classmates were in much the same boat.

Well, the palace tailor would be seeing quite a few of their early paychecks, he suspected.

"Master Rakushun," the herald called out, and the master of ceremonies next to him nodded. The new government works all lined up, then marched toward their Empress, heads bowed. One by one, they kneeled before her, then she signed their papers.

When it was his turn to be presented to her, she signed and stamped the prepared contract of immortality while wearing her "game face" – but she could not completely belie the happiness that shone in her eyes. She had wanted to do this for some time, he knew. She too had been dismayed at the thought of him growing older and leaving him behind. She had offered to do it on the sly, but Rakushun, Keiki, and Shokkei had all been against it. That was the first step down the path of corruption. Immortality was a gift that had to be _earned_ – Shokkei had learned that the hard way. No emperor who had given it away freely had kept the Mandate of Heaven for very long.

So Rakushun had been determined to _earn_ it, and to serve Yoko.

Finally, this day had come.

The contracts would stay in the palace, on file. If it was ever determined that he or another official was unfit to serve, the contracts would be voided and his agelessness lost. He could also still die of any severe physical injury. Only Yoko's most priceless treasure, the Blue Water Monkey Sword, could keep a body alive after an otherwise mortal wound.

"Congratulations," Yoko murmured, her voice warmer than the poker face she wore. She also let her fingers touch his for the briefest second, and the electricity that arced between them was surely visible to anyone in the court. At least, Rakushun felt that it should be. He nearly jumped a foot.

And then it was all over, with one final bow to his empress. He joined the rest of the new officials, and together they drifted off to another building for more paperwork – housing assignments, tax forms, and of course, their first paycheck.

* * *

Each of the new workers was assigned to a department, where they would be an apprentice for two years. One of them was given to education, another to the relatively new UN Affairs, and so on.

Rakushun was given to the Archives department, since his knowledge of their ancient characters and the country's history had been the best among the examinees.

Yoko once told him that the ancient characters were still in use "over there" as well. Her country had simplified them into syllables many centuries ago, and in recent times adopted Roman letters which were made for completely different languages. She had shown him examples of all three alternate writing forms. Rakushun's mind had immediately seen the advantages of the simple syllabaries and the more flexible Roman alphabet, but he felt that some of the nuance of their own written language would be lost if they ever considered adopting one of the new writing systems.

That explained why the _kaikyaku_ could communicate a little more easily in writing than they could in spoken word, at first. All the ancient characters still shared similar base meanings with their counterparts in the other world.

To Rakushun, each character represented thousands of years of gradual change. The characters, according to the legends, had been given to them by the gods at the creation of the world. They were first used for communication with the spirits, and to tell fortunes. The words would be carved onto a bone and tossed into the fire. The bone would not burn completely in a normal fire, and the ashes would still contain a few fragments of remaining letters that could be interpreted.

Later, they were used for other important tasks, and they gradually shifted and grew more complicated. The way Yoko drew them was plain and unornamented, but the most skilled calligraphers had their own unique style, with flourishes and embellishments everywhere. Since meeting Yoko, Rakushun had begun to favor the cleaner, simpler style. The beauty was in the crispness and preciseness of the lines.

Yoko's grasp of the Arabic numbers was probably the only thing she had above anyone else, Rakushun thought as he plodded toward the Ministry of Archives to meet his new boss. She had explained that all the children in the other realm she called Japan were taught numbers at an early age. Yoko could perform the same advanced computations used by the astronomers to plot the path of the stars. She insisted on reviewing every page of spending and budgets herself, and had caught many mistakes and one time a small time embezzlement scheme. Since then, none of the workers had intentionally tried to deceive her when it came to hard numbers – or cash.

"Welcome to the office of the Archives," an elderly lady said. She had once been very pretty, Rakushun decided, but she had clearly gotten into the government later in her life. He wondered how old she really was. "My name is Tohara, the Minister of the Archives. You must be Rakushun."

She let him deep into the office, and he was greeted by several other cheerful workers. He inhaled. The smell of ink and parchment permeated the air.

"I believe you will fit right in with us," she said, as she saw him doing so. A few other office workers, their hands stained with ink, stopped to wave at him before returning to their work.

"I believe you are right," he agreed.

"Let me show you to your desk, then I will give you the grand tour of our records vault. All records are done in triplicate, but we store the originals here in Kinpa Palace in addition to two off-site places."

Rakushun settled into a comfortable routine quickly, going to work for most of the day and returning home to his mother's cooking at night. The work was difficult only in that they were always pressed for time – writing three copies of each document took ages.

Rakushun could write in his unornamented style very fast, however, so with his aid the department was able to begin to catch up with their enormous backlog for the first time since Yoko ascended the throne.

* * *

**Several Months Later…**

Rakushun lifted his quill off the paper, staring thoughtfully at the characters he had just written. His clean penmanship had earned him the task of primary calligrapher for the whole department soon after he was hired, with the head Minister of Archives often dictating directly to him. After a satisfying day of work, he was looking forward to returning home, where his mother would have dinner ready for him.

She had taken to life in the palace better than he had, Rakushun mused as he walked along the gravel path inside the palace grounds that would take him to his apartment near the final outer wall. When the kitchen staff had gotten word that the Empress was fond of Kou-style cooking (Rakushun had no idea who'd dropped _that_ particular rumor), they'd invited her to join them as staff too, and given her a contract of immortality. Out of the blue. It had astonished Rakushun, but also greatly relieved him. The thought of staying forever twenty six while his mother grew older and older had nearly broken his heart.

She worked in the palace kitchens daily, but always brought home something tasty for him. It made Rakushun happy to know he and Yoko were eating the same food, even if they weren't in the same place physically.

"I'm home," he said, and carefully hung his scholar's hat and robe on the peg near the door, next to his mother's apron. He morphed back into his rat form – he abided by protocol and worked as a human, but allowed himself to completely relax at home.

"Hello dear," his mother said, coming from the kitchen, and handed him a rolled up tube tied with a ribbon. "This arrived for you a short while ago. It looks like it came from the inner palace."

Rakushun followed her back into the kitchen and sat down at the dinner table, curious.

"It's a summons to the inner palace tomorrow," he said, his voice steady but his whiskers twitching. He hadn't seen Yoko once since he'd started working a month ago. "It seems I will have to ask to be excused from work tomorrow."

"Heh, your girlfriend misses you," his mother teased good naturedly.

Rakushun's mother had liked Yoko even before she turned out to be the Empress of Kei. She always referred to her obliquely as "my son's girlfriend" – although she never explicitly told anyone that Rakushun and the Empress were friends (or more than friends, depending on how Rakushun felt about the future prospects of their relationship.)

Rakushun and Yoko still communicated almost daily via their message bird, but some days he or she were too busy, and other days their comments were brief. This, she had said wryly, was the price of growing up.

"It might not even be Yoko," he said, looking at the paper thoughtfully. "It's a summons to the court, but not to the throne room."

Rakushun wondered who wanted him, and why.

"Eh, the inner palace?" Tohara said, quite surprised. "I didn't know you had clearance for that."

"Ah," he said sheepishly, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck. He opted for a partial truth. "I once did some work for the government in En, as a courier. I was granted palace access in all the kingdoms."

Rakushun had never told anyone in his office about his relationship with Yoko. It would have only made things awkward.

"Oh," his boss said, sounding delighted. "I was not aware of that. How wonderful." She frowned suddenly. "You're not to be a courier for Her Majesty too, are you? I won't give you up without a fight."

Rakushun shook his head. "I doubt it. Most of the other couriers I met were not university educated." He gave her his trademark half-smile.

"Good. You're not going anywhere for a long time if I have any say."

* * *

So it was that Rakushun left his office in the Ministry of Records and traveled to the gateway of the Inner Palace. His name and the letter were checked against a roster of summons at the gate.

"You are to go to the Office of the Royal Scribe," the guard said, and pointed to one of the large buildings the flanked the throne room, almost on the other side of the palace grounds.

Ah, so it was Shokkei!

He trudged across the lawn, still curious as to what she wanted him for. She too was a dear friend, but she would not summon him lightly.

"Rakushun!" The former princess of Hou greeted him warmly at the door of the building, even sneaking him a furtive hug. He would always remember her as a slightly terrified runaway, although she'd grown up tremendously over the years.

"You look well, Shokkei." He meant it. She was stunning, and if he had not loved Yoko he might have fallen for the ex-princess. What man wouldn't?

Her position has a scribe for the royal office was unique; never before had an Empress of Kei been so illiterate. The King of En had used a scribe for the first two hundred years, so Shokkei's position was fairly assured for some time. The young beauty had initially declined to renew her contract of immortality that had been stripped from her; she wanted to earn it this time, she had said. But Yoko had wanted her and Suzu to stay close in age to her, so Shokkei was once again ageless. But she was no longer a guileless ingénue, nor was she a frantic, desperate peasant. She was a matured woman beneath that youthful façade.

"I'm afraid I brought you here under a bit of a ruse," she said, winking. "It was Yoko who wanted to see you. Come this way." She pulled him inside.

Rakushun's heart suddenly began beating faster, and he hoped Shokkei did not see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulped.

"Why didn't she summon me directly?"

"She's still trying to protect you," Shokkei said, and escorted him deeper into the building. "She knows that you want to earn any promotions and positions in the palace on your own merit, so is trying to keep your relationship quiet for now."

Shokkei said it so casually, but then again, the scribe was probably the biggest cheering section that Rakushun had in his efforts to break out of the friend zone with Yoko.

They were now in the innermost chambers, where no one of his rank could have ever hoped to set foot uninvited. Yoko was in a library of sorts, dressed down. She rose in greeting when she saw him, perhaps on instinct, even though by all rights he should be throwing himself prostrate on the ground.

But this was simply Yoko. For all intents and purposes, he was her best friend.

Shokkei left them, and there were no servants in the room. Like the Yoko he always knew, she threw herself into his arms freely. She'd always been enthusiastic in her affections.

Having her in his arms in human form was dangerous. As a rat, he could set aside his emotions and view her affection toward him logically. The human form, on the other hand, was all hormones without a lick of logic to control them.

It did not help when she reached up and gave him a firm kiss on the cheek. She blushed.

"That was for the kiss I could not give you at graduation," she said. She hugged him again. "I missed you."

Hesitantly, he hugged her back. She felt wonderful in his arms. Her hair was down, and her soft dusky skin had lost none of its natural glow even though she was locked in a gilded cage almost every day. She smelled nice; she was a clean and neat person by nature, preferring to bathe daily, much to the court's relief. (Apparently some emperors in ages past feared "washing away" their nobility.)

Yoko's governing philosophy was similarly simple and clean. She didn't want to remake the kingdom, or eradicate sin, or make the kingdom pure. She just wanted to follow the Mandate of Heaven as it had been given to her – something she had told him was known in her world as "common sense."

Reluctantly, she broke the hug, and motioned for him to sit at the table across from her.

"How have you been?" he asked her, the words seeming so inadequate for the outpouring of emotions he was feeling at that moment, and also unnecessary since he had heard from her just days before.

"Bored," she said, pursing her lips. "The kingdom doesn't _need_ me. It just needs any old king." She sighed, the words tumbling out of her. "I guess my first goal should be to make the kingdom _want_ me. I'm trying to inspire loyalty, but it's hard when there's just so much corruption built up from last few centuries." She sighed again and rested her chin on her hands. Rakushun followed suit, so that they were looking at each other across the table. "I've been constantly shuffling the folks in the government and the castle staff because I don't want to fire anyone without proof. So I've just been…. Well, not really _demoting_ them, so much as putting them in positions where they are better suited and can do less harm." She drummed her fingers against her cheek. "I think I've gotten everyone out of the top spots who wasn't fiercely loyal only to me."

Rakushun couldn't help himself, as his lips twitched as he said, "No executions then?"

She stuck her tongue out at him like a kid.

"Not since Ganto, no. No need. The Army is completely under my command. Getting them behind me was probably the best first move I could have made. The provincial lords have been pruned and replaced one by one, and I think they're all more or less okay now. Since I haven't screwed up yet, I think people are finally beginning to have faith in a female empress again."

He reached out to touch one of her hands with his. The gesture was unlike him; usually she was the one to initiate any contact. But he felt the sudden need to feel her, any part of her.

"You should give yourself more credit," he said gently. "Who wouldn't want you for an Empress? You're smart, pretty, and have good ideas."

"The minute I stop doubting myself is the minute I lose," she argued. "I must always question myself. Blind self-belief has been the downfall of many emperors."

She did have a point. So Rakushun decided to change the subject.

"Your outfit is nice," he said into the silence. "It's different from the one you wore at my graduation."

"Thanks," she said. She stood up to pose, the squared off sleeves of the garment falling gently to the side. "These kimonoare the most common dress clothes we would wear, Over There. I had a half dozen of them made out of recycled robes that were too old and moth eaten to be worn as they were. They're a lot more comfortable than the heavy state robes in the summer."

Yoko always liked to "recycle" – she wanted nothing in the kingdom to go to waste. Since she had ascended to the throne, the rumor was that she'd asked for nothing personal for herself that wasn't re-used, somehow. The palace bursars were relieved, and although Keiki said nothing about it in public he was also apparently rather pleased about her frugality.

She sighed happily and sat down again. "I didn't call you in here just to talk, by the way. I wish I could be that selfish. I wanted your help on an issue that's been bothering me." She patted the scattered notes on the table. Some of the notes were in Shokkei's neat, perfect script. Others were in Yoko's much more halting script. Practice for them, it seemed.

But others were in the strange squiggly writing of Yoko's world. She explained that she wrote in her native language only to sort out her thoughts, and avoided it when she could since she needed to practice. But she also used that writing when she wanted to write something indecipherable. Secret messages to En were often sent in it, since Enki and Sho could read it.

"How old is Kei, Rakushun?"

Now that was an odd question. "The histories aren't dated in years." He took a blank sheet of parchment, and helped himself to the quill and ink to begin to tally numbers. "But we can estimate by the total length of each of the rulers, and the gaps in between."

She watched him, fascinated, as he began to create a tally of Arabic numbers from memory. He added the columns, thought for a moment, wrote down a few more numbers, and thought some more.

"The histories go back approximately 2300 years," he concluded after adding everything together. "Our first king received the branch from the Tentei, and created the kingdom around then."

Yoko nodded. "As I thought." She took a deep breath. "I believe this world split off from Over There about that time. In China… er, Qin, that is when the first emperor unified the provinces through violence and bloodshed. He was so afraid of death that he was determined to also conquer the afterlife. He had an army of clay soldiers fashioned and buried with him, to that end."

"Impressive," Rakushun said, but he was genuinely fascinated by her story.

"I think the tentei didn't like that. They didn't want their country unified by a ruler afraid of death. So they made this perfect world-"

"Perfect?" he interjected dryly.

She ignored him. "-instead, where a ruler who was good would live forever and would never have to fear death. And a rule who was bad would quickly fall."

"You don't have anything like the tentei over there?"

Yoko shook her head. "Not any more. We certainly didn't have the sages, or contracts of immortality. Such things are the stuff of fantasy there. We _did_ have a lot of countries attacking each other and causing misery. I think that's why the tentei forbid armed invasion." She shoved the papers around the table. "Everyone here takes things like the tentei for granted. The gods abandoned my world long ago."

"I wouldn't say they abandoned you," Rakushun argued in his matter of fact way. "Perhaps they are merely less involved."

"Or not involved at all," she snorted. "We pray to them and no one answers. We have no means of even knowing if they are listening… At least here, we have solid proof they listen to some prayers."

She spoke of the riboku, and she suddenly looked very shy. She blushed and smiled. It was Rakushun who had first shown her the glowing trees of life.

He was once again struck by her beauty.

He wanted her to kiss him again. Or maybe it was that he wanted to kiss her.

He told her so.

She blushed crimson and looked away, then changed her mind, reached across the table, and grabbed him by his robes.

This time it was not a peck on the cheek. This was full on the lips, slow and steady. They both gradually stood up, clutching each other's clothing. He leaned into her, and then dared to reach up to stroke her hair. She hummed against him in pleasure.

"Yoko," he whispered.

And so, they crossed an invisible line that had been between them. Never before had they taken physical intimacy beyond holding hands or hugging. He slid one hand up her back, feeling the bones of her shoulder blades – she was thin, but not delicate at all, and there was a solid layer of muscle and flesh over the bone.

Emboldened, he crept a second hand up her front. Slowly… slowly… and then he cupped her breast.

She broke the kiss in surprise, her face completely crimson. But she did not pull away. He dropped his hand anyway, ashamed by his forwardness.

"Second base," she muttered to herself, then giggled as he gave her a blank look. "Over there, we play a game called baseball. At some point, how far a couple goes was tied into the scoring system. We haven't quite… 'scored' yet… but we have a runner on second – ah, never mind." She gave up when she saw his confused look, then they both dissolved into laughter.

"So if we are on second, what is first?" he asked, a bit more serious, although he was still smiling. He was always interested in learning more about her world.

"The kiss itself." Her blush, which had faded briefly, came back.

"And third base?"

She looked at the wall over his shoulder, her face burning crimson. "Clothes off."

"Oh, well, we reached that years ago when I found you in the woods," he said matter of factly.

"That doesn't count," Yoko said huffily. "You weren't trying to figure out how to get from third base to home plate at the time."

"True enough. I was more concerned with making sure you weren't also injured."

She winced. "There also wasn't much to look at, at the time."

"Oh, you were still very pretty, even half dead."

The tension from before had eased. "Second base" was perhaps still a step too far for them for now. So, they were content to hold hands while they worked on Yoko's timeline for the rest of the afternoon.

As dinner approached, Keiki knocked on the door and entered without much warning. Rakushun was a bit grateful that they were genuinely working and not trying to find "a path from third base to home plate." Keiki's cool, impassive eyes took in the situation, but he said nothing.

"The lord of Ba province will be joining us for dinner," Keiki announced imperiously, then bowed to his empress – the only person he could ever bow before – but he also gave a polite nod of acknowledgement to Rakushun. The debt that the kingdom owed him for rescuing the Empress had more than been repaid with his college education, but Keiki had also been personally rescued due to Rakushun's aid. There was a mutual respect between the two young men, and an acknowledgement that Yoko was the most important person in the world for both of them.

Then Keiki left them again. Rakushun was disappointed; their time had come to a close.

"I was hoping you could join me for dinner too, but it sounds like it's going to be a stuffy state affair," Yoko said with a sigh. "I miss having personal time."

"It's a luxury that not even the king can afford," Rakushun agreed. "I will take my leave of you." Protocol dictated that he should bow, and back away slowly.

A flash of rebellion coursed through him.

Protocol be damned.

He pulled her close for a sweet, lingering kiss instead. She sighed and melted against him. If Keiki was aware, he surely had both eyebrows raised.

"When can I see you again?" he whispered against her mouth.

"As soon as I can think of another reason to steal you," she murmured back.

* * *

Later that night, Rakushun slept poorly, which was unusual for him. He was tormented by visions of her; he remembered the full softness of her breast in his hand, the way she clutched his robes, the firmness of her body against his.

It was a long, long night for the young man.


End file.
